“Why—why, I don’t know, sir. I’ll see.”
“That’s all right. She’s aboard or you wouldn’t have to see. You and me sailed together quite a spell, so I know your little habits. I’ll wait in the library, Commodore. Tell her there’s no particular hurry.”
His niece was expecting him. She had anticipated his visit and was prepared for it. From the emotion caused by his departure after the eventful birthday, she had entirely recovered, or thought she had. The surprise and shock of his leaving and the consequent sense of loneliness and responsibility overcame her at the time, but Stephen’s ridicule and Mrs. Corcoran Dunn’s congratulations on riddance from the “encumbrance” shamed her and stilled the reproaches of her conscience. Mrs. Dunn, as always, played the diplomat and mingled just the proper quantity of comprehending sympathy with the congratulations.
“I understand exactly how you feel, my dear,” she said. “You have a tender heart, and it pains you to hurt anyone’s feelings, no matter how much they deserve to be hurt. Every time I dismiss an incompetent or dishonest servant I feel that I have done wrong; sometimes I cry, actually shed tears, you know, and yet my reason tells me I am right. You feel that you may have been too harsh with that guardian of yours. You remember what you said to him and forget how hypocritically he behaved toward you. I can’t forgive him that. I may forget how he misrepresented Malcolm and me to you—that I may even pardon, in time—but to deceive his own brother’s children and introduce into their society a creature who had slandered and maligned their father—that I never shall forget or forgive. And—you’ll excuse my frankness, dear—you should never forget or forgive it, either. You have nothing with which to reproach yourself. You were a brave girl, and if you are not proud of yourself, I am proud of you.”
So, when her uncle was announced, Caroline was ready. She entered the library and acknowledged his greeting with a distant bow. He regarded her kindly, but his manner was grave.
“Well, Caroline,” he began, “I got your letter.”
“Yes, I presumed you did.”
“Um-hm. I got it. It didn’t surprise me, what you wrote, because I’d seen the news in the papers; but I was hopin’ you’d tell me yourself, and I’m real glad you did. I’m much obliged to you.”
She had not expected him to take this tone, and it embarrassed her.
“I—I gave you my reasons for writing,” she said. “Although I do not consider that I am, in any sense, duty bound to refer matters, other than financial, to you; and, although my feelings toward you have not changed—still, you are my guardian, and—and—”